Never Leave Your Heart Alone
by welcome ghosts
Summary: “Cry like this when Stacy left you?” she snaps back, the words slipping from her mouth like daggers. A collection of Cameron-centric drabbles.
1. Beginnings

A/N: _Well, using the prompt table from the fanfic100 challenge, I've taken on a new endeavor. I'm not technically participating in the challenge, but I will use all of the prompts, and all of my drabbles will center around Cameron. (They might be longer than 100 words, though.) I hope you all like it. :)_

**Beginnings**

Allison Cameron doesn't know it at the time, but taking a fellowship position at Princeton Plainsboro will change everything. Oh sure, she knows it will make some things different, but she is thinking more along the lines of perpetual tiredness, coping with losing patients, and accepting that she will never have a social life.

She never imagines she will change who she is, what she believes in, and the way she falls in love. She never imagines what he will do to her.

She gets an idea, though, when she finishes her first day. After she breaks more rules in one shift than she has her whole life, after she endures countless insults, after her very first patient lies to her and then dies, and after he catches her crying about it, she gets an idea.

One day, he tells her, you'll stop believing the best in people. One day, he tells her, you'll stop being so damn naïve.

It the start of what working for this man will do to her. It is the beginning of what is to come.


	2. Snow

**Snow**

Cameron met Michael for the first time in a coffee shop on a bitingly cold December evening. Snow was falling more heavily than it had all winter, and med school was threatening to drive her into insanity. Cameron had just ordered a latté and was digging furiously for 2.89 in her wallet.

"I've got it," called a voice from behind her. "Don't worry."

Cameron turned to find a man, tall and brown-eyed, grinning at her. "Thanks," she mumbled, tentatively returning the smile.

As the snow continued to cover the ground outside with a thick, white blanket, it didn't take long for Cameron to accept when Michael asked if she wanted to sit with him and drink their coffees.


	3. Work

**Work**

"Ally!"

Cameron cringed at the nickname, but didn't have to turn around to see who was calling her. It was Olivia Charles, one of the ER nurses. Despite the fact that Olivia was generally annoying on an all-around level, she also enjoyed calling her "Ally." This was a problem because 1) her name was _Allison_, and 2) in any case, for the past five or so years, she had been _Cameron. _

_Cameron, what the hell were you thinking? Cameron, go run this test. Save any puppies lately, Cameron?_

But, she tried to remind herself, this was a new part of her life. She was working in the ER, not for House, and they could call her whatever they liked. Even if what they liked was something she had been called as a five-year-old.

Cameron allowed herself one moment of missing the Diagnostics Department before turning around to face Olivia.

"What's going on, _Liv_?" she asked, smiling slightly to herself.


	4. Why?

A/N: _If you're reading this, a review would be much appreciated. :)_

**Why?**

She should have quit a long time ago, done what she tried to do when Vogler had been here. She should have left him behind and gone to work for Yule or Weiss or someone, because anyone would have been better than this.

Instead, she came back to him because of a date that was probably the worst – and best – evening of her life. Instead, she never quit him entirely, but merely changed floors.

She doesn't know why she started caring about him, and she sure as hell doesn't know why she still does.

But it's not like the reasons matters, not really. After all, she stopped asking why a long time ago.


	5. Enemies

A/N: _No one's there to leave a review? Anyone? Bueller?_

**Enemies**

Once, after one of their patients dies – a man named Peter with blue eyes and brown hair who looked so damn much like her husband – Cameron cries alone in the staircase. She isn't a pretty crier on the best of days, and this is no exception. Her eyes are puffy and red, and her sobs come out quickly and shuddery.

House is the one who finds her, although she doesn't know how; it isn't like he ever takes the stairs.

"Cry like this when your husband died?" he asks, leaning heavily on his cane and glancing down at her.

"Cry like this when Stacy left you?" she snaps back, the words slipping from her mouth like daggers. "Or was it too much of a relief when you found out you didn't have to care about anyone anymore?"

He hesitates – for maybe a quarter of a second and no more – before replying, "When you're done making an utter fool of yourself, we have a new case from Cuddy." A pause, then, "And if you're going to flood the hospital every time a patient dies, then maybe you should try getting a job somewhere else. An animal shelter, maybe."

And she hates him then, truly hates him. Cameron fixes him with as much of a glare as she can manage. "You," she says clearly, "are a bastard." Then, taking a deep breath, she stands up and walks away before House can say anything.

And she likes to think she isn't imagining the shock in his eyes.


End file.
